Spice and Wine
by Shadow's Life
Summary: Abandonment doesn't really sit well with someone who's been imprisoned for her entire life. It could even drive her mad, in fact. Ariadne will tell you that. Dionysus could, too, actually. Madness is his specialty, after all.
1. Chapter 1

I woke up with a start.

He wasn't there.

The tears came then.

A small, detached part of my mind floated somewhere up on the clouds, watching my body rock back and forth, devoid of any sanity or restraint. It was thinking, of course I wouldn't cry until the point when I was sure he was gone. Around him, I was strong. I had to be strong. The girl he loved was strong and fearless, longing to leave her father's chains behind her. There wasn't room or time to be weak.

What good had it done? I had time to be weak now. He wasn't going to see it. He'd never be here again to see it.

He'd never be here again. So what good was I? What god was my beauty, when it couldn't tempt him? My voice, when he wouldn't listen? My ideas, when he wouldn't value?

All he'd wanted were my chains. He wished to set me free, like a pitying child would do for a pinioned dove. Pity was all he had to toss into my worthless face.

My life was noting without him. I lived for him, breathed for him. My life was already gone. Why make the body sit any longer, a useless, suffering shell?

Detached and reasonable as this cool voice was, it calmed me down. Quite obviously, it was right, in more ways than one. I would not allow my name to be tarnished now, after I had finally set myself free. My life was worthless now, except to serve as a reminder to the world that even mortals were not rags. I would take Tartarus, and meet it with silence so deep that the darkness would shake. The gods would remember me.

But not as the worthless scrap tossed aside by the conquering hero.

I got up and walked forward, completely calm now. I didn't stop when the waves began to touch my toes. Not when I was elbow deep in foaming waves. I didn't breathe as the water filled my nose. My eyes stayed open, stung by the cold water.

The world underwater would have been eerie, had the glaring morning sun not pierced the waves enough that shafts of light illuminated the surrounding area. Not a pice of debris littered the ocean floor here. Obviously. This was a virgin island. Fit for a virgin princess's last breath.

"Hello there."

Automatically, I turned. My hair swirled, making it difficult to see. Imptiently, I cleared it off my face. Despite being underwater, the gesture was so everyday that for a moment, I forgot exactly where I was.

Consequently, I wasn't entirely attentive to my situation.

"My name's Dionysus. Perhaps you've heard of me?"

I almost answered, then remembered that I wasn't a god, I couldn't speak underwater.

Why didn't any of this surprise me? That detached part of my mind asked. I really had no answer.

"I believe I'm speaking to the princess Ariadne."

I nodded.

"Well, my dear, It is my duty to inform you that you are, at this moment, experiencing one of the most intoxicated states of being that any mortal has experienced beofre." He chuckled. "A rather interesting way of achieving it, but effective nonetheless."

He began to walk forward. My feet lifted off the ground, and I cringed a little, wary. My other part was saying, well of course I shouldn't be surprised. Look at who my company's been for the past six months. I am a princess, what's more. Royalty has to deal with these things.

Then it said, interesting. I'm intoxicated?

My vision suddenly blurred, as I realized I hadn't breathed for the past five or six minutes. My lungs screamed.

And then screamed some more as, unable to resist any longer, I inhaled water. Oil, burning oil filled me.

"Oh, dear. Well, I suppose it would have been foolish to expect any more -- you lasted astonishingly long to begin with." I thought I heard the god sigh. "Madness does many things to people."

Another voice. "Indeed. But she's surprisingly strong in her feelings, even considering her situation."

"You would know, obviously."

"Obviously." The other voice chuckled. The sound was bitter somehow, musical though it also was.

"Well, even so, I'd say I have the stronger claim in this situation."

"I give in. Seven minutes? Is she mortal or not?"

Seven minutes -- rather surprising. Or perhaps the sea was merely taking pity on me. My other half, perfectly lucid to the last. Quite appropriate, somehow, that the sea god would pity what his son had pitied before him.

It just showed that that was all she was capable of inspiring.

Her final moments were being overseen by two gods -- for the other was Anteros, it was evident -- who were chatting over me as if I were some fascinating specimen.

Which I was.

I wondered what they'd do about me, if anything.

Rather amazing that I was so special to begin with.

That was probably because of my father. Possibly because of my stubbornness.

Perhaps even a little because of my own weakness.

Perhaps...

My last thoughts for a long time.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ah, the princess has woken."

I opened my eyes blearily. It didn't do any good; my vision was too blurred to see anything anyway.

"In another minute I would have given you ambrosia. It would have woken you, of course, but it really doesn't sit well with mortals. Makes them burn up, you know."

I tried to nod at the matter-of-fact voice. I knew that much, at least.

"Of course, it isn't as painful to true royals such as yourself. But the effect does last a little longer."

That was news. I was fairly sure by this point that facial expressions weren't making themselves known on my face. Why not?

The voice was back. It wondered absently whether I should even be trying to distinguish it from my own thoughts, knowing how similarly it worked to my own mind. Perhaps it was only a little more detached, which was why I was labelling it as such.

But no. My own thoughts were a little more confuseed than this calm, rational train of comments that wandered through my mind and distracted me from the situation at hand.

As it was clearly doing.

I focused hazily, and made myself blink, very slowly. My vision didn't clear.

"Ah, your sight is blurry, I believe. Fear not, that can be fixed easily enough. If you'll hold them openfor me, exactly as you're doing now without my even asking - very polite of you, by the way - I'll just dab a little of this on your lashes. Blink once, if you'll be so kind, my dear."

I blinked once.

Abruptly, my sight was restored. All of it, even. The sharp focus that showed me the fine grain detail of the lacquered wood ceiling above me and the miniscule shadows made by the light that came in from a window above my head also showed me the faint glimmer that told me that the entire room was steeped in the doings of immortals.

I moved my eyes slowly to the side, taking care not to go too far and sliding them downwards before they could meet with the god next to me. It was obvious that he was a god - his glow was almost blinding, and that was only what I let myself see.

"Admirable, my dear, but you're safe. You may look at me."

I suppose it was a little rude to glance back up quite so quickly. But I obviously was allowed at least that liberty, if I had been given permission to see a god.

The face from underwater met my gaze. Amused eyes winked in the sweet sunlight. "Ah, curiosity. Plagued by it all your life, I suppose. I wonder what it's like to know there's a god around every street corner in a city at one point or another, and never be able to_ look._"

_You have no idea._

"I suppose I don't, do I?"

How had he heard that?

"Surprised, I imagine. If you direct a thought at me, I will hear it. "

It was easy enough to digest. I had seen the glimmers of thought shimmering around people, trying not to follow the shots they directed at different people with my eyes. Seeing was so distracting, useful though it also proved.

_I suppose that's a good thing?_

"Very, considering that I have diagnosed you with a peculiar mental affliction that renders you incapable of speech."

_Similar to what I had in my childhood. I would describe it a sa fear rather than a malady._

"Is not fear itself a malady of the gravest proportions?"

_Very true. It does rather frightening things to people._

"What a thought - fear is frightening. Beautiful! Humans are so interesting."

Wait a moment. I was chatting with a god. Was there something wrong with this equation?

My voice shrugged. Just go along with it, it whispered. You didn't start it, so it must be his initiative. It is rather interesting, what's more.

Gods start or stop at their whims, I chided it. It isn't for us to try and 'indulge' them. We are servants Unobtrusive, not obliging.

But it is interesting.

"Wrapped up in yourself again. Your thoughts so rarely leave the room."

_I have a voice in my mind. It's rather infuriating in some ways, but very rational._

"You picked up this voice at the island, did you not?"

_Yes, actually._

"then it's rather simple -- it's your own manifestation of intoxication - more loosely, the unique way in which yo become intoxication. It's what drunkenness means to you."

_Am I drunk?_

"Rather heavily and unconventionally so, I'm afraid. It was necessary to revive you. I apologize."

_That's perfectly all right. Simply interesting._

"You find many things interesting."

_Because they are._

"I happen to find you interesting, actually. A very strong force of will."

_I am rather out of character at this point, I suppose._

"Very. But it's been rather enlightening." Suddenly, he stood. "Go back to sleep now. When you wake, you'll be sober. I won't be able to hear you at that point, so do make an effort to speak."

_I will try._

"All I ask. Good afternoon."


	3. Chapter 3

I wondered, absently, exactlty what happened when you cursed a god. I decided to abandon the conundrum of setting a god after himself, before I became woozy yet again. What had he given me to make me so disoriented for so long?

I put a hand out as I felt myself moving yet again. I wasn't really sure how I took the odd sensation of moving without meaning to, r seeing anything that might have caused it. The only word to describe it, really, was abrupt. One moment you were here, the next you were there, and though you were certain time had elapsed in between, you wondered how it had gone without your realizing it.

I sat down before I mad myself woozy yet again.

"You're joking, aren't you -" The approaching voice broke off as its owner appeared at the door, an eyebrow raised and eys widening.

"I said you'd be sober, not ready to go gallivanting off across the seven seas."

I tried for almost five minutes before I found my voice. "I apo...logize...for my mis..under...standing."

"Speaking, too! You are quite possibly the worst patient I've ever had."

"I...said...I would..." I struggled, too out of breath to finish.

"Make an effort? I don't recall the line about killing yourself trying." He sighed, ever so softly, and strode forward, picking me up without a pause from the stool I had managed to reach, and carrying me back to the bed. If I had had an ounce of strength left, I would have put up a fight. The situation, as it stood, left me without that coveted ounce. What could I do?

Then again, maybe that was a good thing. Protesting against a god might not land you in the best of places.

He put me down, gently, on the mattress, andpulled the stool towards the head of the bed, settling on it casually. I watched him silently. He turned to meet my eyes, and watched me back.

I found myself daring him silently. Go on, keep looking. How long will you last? You'll look away eventually. I know you will. You're too scared that I'll find you, you and your secrets. Everyone's scared for their secrets.

My old game. I always won.

I lost this time. I had forgotten who I was playing with.

I saw, from the corner of my eye, that his mouth twisted briefly. "Quite an interesting habit. What do you make of me, then?"

I refused to reply.

"As proud as expected. But you expected to lose, didn't you?"

I hadn't, because I hadn't thought to. But I nodded anyway.

A thought occurred to me. He hadn't shown me anything. During the entire game, I had seen nothing in his eyes. Where were the legends of Dionysus, of his curses of madness that left a man in living hell until his death? Startled, I glanced at him.

"Figured it out, have you?" He smiled. "I treat invalids with courtesy. Presumptuous though it was, I can hardly blame you, when I fed you the liquor to begin with."

Presumption. How guilty I was of that. But as he had said, it wasn't my fault, when he had dulled my reason.

"Let's play another game. Give me your hand."

I held it out, after a moment's hesitation.

"I'll hold out two fingers, and you have to find them, with your eyes closed."

I raised an eyebrow. He wanted a test, did he? Well, this should be easy. I sat up a little strighter, and closed my eyes calmly.

There has never been a time in my life when I'm unable to see. My eyelids don't block the light; they dimmed my usual sight, to show me the things that only gods and the gifted can see.

Outlines, burning outlines.

The room I was in had the sharpest focus in my Sight that I had ever experienced. So clear that it almost hurt my eyes to take in the detail. Bright and colourful, as unreal as a priest's painting.

In this vision, I didn't see in glows, but in impressions. Dionysus, I could see in his true form, without fear of instant, unavoidable punishment.

I didn't. Who knew what punishment _he_ would exact on me?

But I did see two fingers, held steadily over my left knee.

He moved as I did, making me less cautious with my own movements as I quickly grew infuriated. No matter how fast I struck, he was just a beat ahead of me. Like a cat toying with a kitten.

I lost track of time easily enough.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up, blinking my eyes blearily in the sunlight.

Sunlight. That was different. I realized as I sat up that there was a window behind my bed. How had I not noticed before?

Well, I had been rather unobservant on both previous days. It wasn't my fault.

He was right, I _was_ preoccupied with myself.

"Hello. Wrapped up in yourself again?" Ever so casual, Dionysus strolled in. I narrowed my eyes even though I had just thought the same thing myself. He laughed, drawing up his wicker stool and sitting down beside me.

"I would guess...you were analysing yourself."

"Yes." I tried to put as much dignified aloofness into my voice as possible. Then I wondered how I dared. Then I reasoned with myself that it hadn't gotten me in trouble so far.

He leaned in and took my arm deliberately. I realized, too late, that those small graces had been because of my drunkenness.

He put one finger on the inside of my elbow. A fireball blosomed that travelled in tendrils and branches from that point to my head in a split second. My eyelids rolled upwards slightly.

What had I just been thinking? The fuzz in my head was just like the ash that fire would have left. Raging, blazing fire that died in a minute, leaving nothing.

If it left nothing, where were these thoughts even from?

Oh, right, my little voice of intoxication.

There I went off again. I closed my eyes, then hurriedly reopened them as I realized he was still in the room. The light had been unbearable for that instant when my eyelids touched each other.

Light. That was what...

he kissed me again, on my jaw, and the fire burned again.

Fire. Sun. Why was the sun...

He kissed me on the cheek, his hand behind my head, the warmth of his fingers seeping through the ack of my skull, flooding my mind with dizziness.

Warmth. It was warm in here...

He kissed my lips the heat evident. I was lost in the maelstrom, unable to catch myself in the whirl that reality had turned into. But through it all, the little voice carried on, with no struggle. The struggle was listening. I had to listen to it. It was saying smething important. I fought to anchor myself to it.

The window behind you is...and the light...and the time...it's been... I faded in and out, struggling to catch more, to make sense of it.

"Damnit, lose yourself. Why won't you give in?" The harsh words were spoken almost lightheartedly, but the voice told me that there was force behind them. My eyes could see the bright power he was pouring into them.

He's trying something. He's trying to make you fall asleep. He doesn't want you to realize.

A lucid thought. Finally. I even detected the questions it brought forth, and began to form them in my mind. A piece at a time, so that it wouldn't all erode.

I heard him growl, and kiss me again, this time with more ferocity. And this time, I was lost. I gladly dropped my hold on sanity, grateful for the excuse that I couldn't win anyway, and became part of the whirl.

My eyes stayed exactly half-open. The unusual brightness of colours around me somehow entered my consciousness. I vaguely wondered how I knew that, and mentally shrugged.

Then I wondered at that.

Then I wondered at my wondering.

Then I wondered at the circle of wondering I was creating.

Then I simply wondered.


End file.
